Everlong
by Mrs.Monster
Summary: Puck really doesn't know what he's doing at Rachel's. Only he does, but he knows that he probably shouldn't be. However, he's a little drunk so he's going to ignore that part. Rating may change.
1. Waited Here for You

_**Disclaimer: **_I own nothing related to Glee. No copyright infringement intended.

_**Author's Note:**_Hello there. Very first Glee fic. Tad nervous. This is canon up until ...sometime in season three. Before Shelby came back with Beth. So I suppose it may be between season two and three? During the summer. Yes. That. I'm not sure when I'll be updating this next- I don't have any more written for it, but I have more planned. So it may be a short time, it may be a bit longer. Also, as far as how long it's going to be, again. Not sure. Possibly just four or five chapters, possibly more.

Review if you'd like.

**...**

_**Hello**  
**I've waited here for you, **  
**Everlong**  
**Tonight I throw myself into**  
**And out of the red**  
**Out of her head she sang**_

He really doesn't know what he's doing here. Only he really does, but he knows that he probably _shouldn't _be here, but he's a little drunk so he's going to ignore that part.

It was summer and the night air was thick as Noah Puckerman stood in Rachel Berry's yard looking up at her still lit, second story bedroom window. He eyed the tree next to him. There was a sturdy looking branch that came somewhat close to the sloping roof, but it would be a little bit of a jump. And that wouldn't exactly be quiet, but her dads weren't home and he needed to talk to her. Of course, he could always use the front door, but _seriously_. Lame.

_Fuck it. _Puck started climbing, scraping himself on bark, snagging his tee shirt on branches. The bottle of cheap vodka that he'd helped finish off at Mike's helped him nut up enough to make the leap from the tree to her roof, but he nearly lost his balance and had to throw his arms out so he didn't fall backward and break his neck.

He was trying to make an _impression_, damn it. A broken neck didn't make for a good impression.

Then he heard a voice from inside her room. "W-who's out there? I have a bat in here, and I will use it! Jacob if that's you again-"

"_Berry_!" He cut her off before she could get freaked out enough to call the cops. The last thing he needed with his record was to be caught breaking and entering, half lit and under twenty-one.

There's a pause, and then, "_Noah?_" The window slid open and she stuck her head out. "What on earth are you doing on my roof?!"

"Trying not to fall! Let me in!"

"Oh! I'm sorry, yes get inside before you kill yourself. Honestly, what were you thinking?"

He climbs through the window, feet sinking into the plush carpet, and looks around. It's exactly the same as it was the last time he was in here last year. The last time he'd kissed her and touched her ass. She'd begged him to take off her clothes. Right there, on that bed. _Fuck_, subject change.

It was about the _girliest _damn bedroom he'd ever been in, except for Brittany's but that girl was legit made out of rainbows or some shit.

"What are you doing here?"

He kind of jumped, pulled his focus from the box of shit that was shoved against the wall next to her vanity thing. It was obviously filled with stuff that had to do with Finn. He'd been with them last month at some fair a few towns over when Finn had won her the little stuffed heart that he could see poking from the box. Rachel was staring at him with this _look_ on her face and her arms crossed over her chest, which pushed her tits up into some awesome boobage in the tiny ass tank top she was wearing.

_Right_. He'd climbed a tree and jumped on her roof in the middle of the night.

"So, uh..." he sat down on the edge of her bed. "How are you?" _What the fuck, Puckerman_.

Thing was, he'd just seen Finn at Mikes. His former best friend had stumbled in with some random Cheerio and a few minutes later looked like he was trying to suck the lower half of her face off. Now, Puck didn't have a lot of room to judge (any room), but last he knew Finn was with Rachel and that just wasn't fuckin' kosher. Rachel was good, aside from a few lapses in judgement (with _him_) and she didn't deserve that kind of bullshit.

But he didn't want to just come out and say that shit. Not to just have Rachel start crying all over him (again). The last thing he needed was to wind up with another wet shirt and _this _close to seeing what was under those skirts he loved so much only to have to take the _high road _and bail. Because he was trying not to be as big of a fuck up. Which may or _may not _havehad something to do with the girl that was frowning at him now. And another girl who was living with her adoptive mother in New York. _Subject change! _

Rachel and Finn, though... he needed to get a read on that situation _stat _before he said shit else. If Finchel was off for good then _fuck _the brocode. And if it wasn't, he had Frankenteen's ass to kick.

"Are you drunk?" Rachel asked him. He couldn't tell if she was amused or not.

"A _little_. What? I can't stop by and see a friend?"

"Of course, but your methods are unorthodox you have to admit. You climbed through my _window_. And since when are we friends?"

Okay, now, that shit hurt. Sure he'd told her _forever _ago that they weren't, but she'd been dumping his sorry ass at the time. He'd serenaded her with Neil Diamond, took a slushy to the face _and _quit football for her. He legit liked her, and she dumped him on the bleachers. So, yeah, he'd been a little pissed. But since then he'd tried to show her that he hadn't meant it.

"I'm wounded, Berry." He clutched at his tee shirt directly over his heart. She loved dramatics. "We're friends."

She frowned before blowing out a sigh and sitting next to him on the bed. "I know we are, Noah. I'm sorry."

Puck shrugged it off. "S'cool. You don't have to be sorry." He bumped her arm with his elbow and leaned closer. "What's going on with you? I haven't seen you around much lately." What he really meant was: _Why was Finn macking on some random chick? _Or: _Did you finally dump his lame ass? _Followed shortly by: _Wanna get naked?_

Now, don't get him wrong. He wanted more from Berry than sweaty, fun times. _A lot _more. But could he help it if that's where his mind went at least every minute and half when he was with her? Alone with her? No, he couldn't. She was hot, _sneaky _hot, had legs to forever and perky tits and he was more than a little into her.

"I haven't felt like going out much," she said, pulling her legs up, crossing them under her. Berry paused. And then, the golden ticket, what he'd come here hoping, _wishing_, to hear: "Finn and I broke up."

Because it was customary whenever she had trouble, "Want me to bust his face?"

She smiled a little. "No, not necessary. I broke up with him."

Puck had a few courses of action he could pick from here. There was their standard, what usually happened when they were alone together; it involved her fucking _fantastic _lips, wandering hands and _sometimes _shed clothing. Option two included climbing back out her window, going back to Mike's and punching Finn in his oversized face for whatever stupid, dickish thing he'd done this time, no matter what she said. Or, he could go for number three which inevitably wound up ending similarly to option one: he could actually _ask _her what had happened, and attempt to comfort her. The fact that he usually comforted her with his tongue was irrelevant.

One look at her face and he realized that he didn't really have any choice at all, did he?

His gut was still swirling and burning with cheap vodka so he let himself fall back on the bed and closed his eyes before asking, "What happened?"

Even with his eyes closed he could tell that she was hesitating, probably remembering what happened _last _time she let him help her with guy problems. Which involved the tongues and the hands and the begging him to take her clothes off. On this very soft bed. _Subject change. _Whatever, this was different. Most importantly, she was single before the comforting this time.

"C'mon, Berry. One hot Jew to another." He blindly reached out and poked her with his forefinger.

Puck imagined that he could hear her eyes rolling, and he knew she was smiling. "There was an expiration date this time. With Finn. It was supposed to end after graduation, you know?" Actually no, this was the first he'd heard of an expiration date. He could feel her weight shifting on the bed, and then her soft hair was across his chest. Puck opened his eyes and looked down at her. Berry's eyes were closed like his had been and she was laying on her back, head on his stomach. He laid back and stared up at her pristine white ceiling. "I guess Finn forgot that, or ignored it. I don't know. But he started talking about OSU and how he was sure we could both get in. I told him that I still planned on going to New York, the plan has _always _been New York and he called me selfish and heartless and a few other... rude things." She sighed. Oh yeah, Finnessa was definitely getting tripped into Mike's pool before this night ended. "It doesn't matter. I told him that it obviously wasn't going to work out."

"How did he take that?"

"Um..."

Her hesitation made him open his eyes. Rachel Berry didn't hesitate. Ever.

"Berrrry," he prodded.

Rach sighed, bit her lip. "_hecalledmeabitch."_ It was mumbled quickly, all jumbled and jammed together. Puck sat straight up, which put her head in his lap.

"I'm sorry. Could you repeat that?"


	2. Down with Me

_**Disclaimer: **__I own nothing related to Glee._

_**Author's Note: **__Took a bit longer than I wanted, but here's the second chapter. I've decided that this is going to be six short chapters, between 1-2k each in length. All in Puck's POV. Hope you enjoy, and drop me a line. _

_**Come down and waste away with me, down with me**_

_**Slow how, you wanted it to be, **_

_**I'm over my head, out of her head she sang **_

_**Chapter Two**_

After what she'd told him, Puck had been ready to run back to Mike's and beat the shit out of Finn. He'd called her a _bitch_. That just wasn't kosher. No matter how psycho baby-mama Quinn could get and Santana legit _earned _the nickname Satan, he'd never lowered himself that far. Sometimes words could hurt just as badly as hands, something he knew from experience.

However, just as she'd always been able to, Rachel had laid one of those damn soft hands on his forearm, and calmed him the hell down. Asked him to stay, and that's how they found themselves in their current place, which happened to be really _no _place. Rachel was drooling on his tee-shirt. And snoring. She had both arms wrapped around his waist, and he had an arm around her shoulders and that silky hair was spilling all over the place like water.

Puck wasn't sure when he found himself _liking _Rachel. It could have been when she brought him a box of her famous sugar cookies after he got out of juvie; two dozen different sized stars with yellow icing and pink sprinkles. Maybe it was when she brought him a slushy after Lauren dumped him after the school year ended. And he'd own up to crying just a _little _when she brought him a card the first Father's Day after Beth was born. It was a collection of different things, and while Puck didn't believe in falling _in love _in freaking high school, he certainly knew that he liked her, and that they had a connection. One that she knew was there, but she'd been hung up on Finn for so long that she couldn't fully appreciate it. And Finn made her happy, or so Puck had thought. Until earlier tonight.

Here's where Puck found himself in trouble. He was literally _surrounded _by Rachel. Her things, her sheets, her arms, her hair, her smell; like apples, from the shampoo she'd always used.

And he couldn't deny it; he was at half-mast. Puck shifted away from Rachel just a little. While he wouldn't exactly _mind _a little slip 'n slide fun, he was determined that if he got a second chance at this thing with Rachel, he was going to do it right.

He was single, she was single. And while Quinn would always mean… something to him, he was completely over her, and if he was right Rachel was ready to move past Finn.

Puck had _plans_. As shocking as it may seem, he did. College, New York, a career in music; if not making his own, he'd figured out that he actually had a knack for producing music after fucking around in a sound booth for a couple of hours each week last summer while visiting cousins in Illinois. And if Rachel just _happened _to feature heavily in those plans, well… can't fault a guy a few dreams, right?

All these thoughts of the not-so distant now future had calmed things down below the waist and Puck felt himself drifting off. He was going to talk to Rachel, and was going to do it soon. She had to know, and he had to man up and tell her how he felt.

…

It was a week after the night at Rachel's house, and Puck hadn't seen her since. She'd woken up stupidly early the next morning for her health regimen-thingy and by the time Puck came around, slightly hung over, she was already gone. Left a note on the kitchen counter thanking him for staying but that she would be gone all day at her ballet studio.

Puck's pool cleaning business had gone belly up when he'd taken himself off the service menu, so he was full timing it at Sheets-N-Things for Mr. Schue's crazy-ass ex-wife who liked to stick him in every open shift she could fill. Puck didn't really mind; he needed the money for college after he graduated next year. Miss Pillsbury had helped him fill out applications for any scholarships that she could think of, but Puck wasn't going to hold his breath. He was fully prepared to wait tables or something else just as crappy, live off whatever he could put away this summer and throughout his last year at McKinley and pay on student loans for the rest of his natural life.

Then again, he could just be Rachel's kept man-whore after she kicked Broadway's ass and she could keep the student loan demons off his back. He could feed her peeled grapes while she lounged on one of those chaise sofas. He could _totally _pull off a loin cloth. Puck shook his head sharply and refocused on what Bamboo was trying to tell him about damask tablecloths. _Subject change. _

…

Later that night Puck was leaving the 7-11 down the street from his house with three tubes of pizza-flavored Pringles under his arm and a grape flavored slushy when he ran into Rachel. Literally. Well, she ran head first into his chest and for the first time wound up covered in slushy _completely by accident. _He dropped the cup and his chips and grabbed her before she could hit the ground.

"Watch where you're going, babe. You could get hurt that way."

"Noah! I'm sorry; I made you spill your frozen drink."

"Yeah, all over your face. You okay?"

Rachel nodded and then grabbed the hem of his tee-shirt and began wiping slushy off of her face. Puck wasn't entirely sure what he was supposed to do, so he just stood there and let her finish until she released his shirt and it fell back against his stomach with a cold, wet _smack_.

Both their shirts were soaked, only hers was a little white thin thing and Puck could see her soft pink bra. And he was at half-mast again. _What the fuck? _He was thirteen anymore! He should be able handle his dick better than this. He was the Puckasauras, damn it. Not some stumbling virgin like Jacob Ben-Israel. Oh god. Boner eliminated. Wait, what was Rachel saying?

"-but if you don't want to that's completely fine, I'll just go back home by myself and watch _Cabaret_ again, and-"

"Wait, what? Don't want to what?"

"Were you listening, Noah?"

He put on his best innocent look and she sighed.

"My fathers are still out-of-town and I was inquiring on whether you'd like to come over. We could break into their liquor cabinet again."

"Seriously, Berry?"

Her bottom lip curled between blinding-white teeth and she nodded. Puck glanced at his watch.

"It's nine now, be there around ten?"


	3. Sing Along with You

Disclaimer: I own nothing related to Glee.

Everlong

Chapter 3

_**And I wonder when I sing along with you,**_

_**If everything could ever feel this real forever **_

_**If anything could ever be this good again **_

_**The only thing I'll ever ask of you**_

_**You gotta promise not to stop when I say when**_

_**She sang:**_

"I don't think I've seen your dads since your bat mitsvah, Berry," Puck said when he found her in the basement of her house. He hadn't bothered ringing the bell, she was the only one here anyway.

She'd changed from the slushy-douced clothes and into what Puck knew she usually slept in; men's sleep pants and a tank top. Sitting on the sofa, her legs were curled up underneath her and there was an unopened bottle of wine loose in her hand.

"They travel a lot, with clients and such. I don't mind really. I've always been very self reliant."

"That why you can't get the bottle opened?"

"Shut it, Puckerman." Rachel handed it to him anyway. After rummaging around in the bar that had been built into a corner, Puck pulled the cork out with a silver corkscrew.

Puck sat on the brown leather sofa next to Rachel and handed her the bottle of fruity wine, their fingers meeting around the frosted glass neck. The Berry basement looked almost exactly the same as it had the last time he had gotten wasted down there. Enormous portraits of Rachel; glittering golden stars; plush leather furnishings; raised stage that he just freaking _knew _he'd grace before he'dbe allowedtoleave tonight_. _Rachels arm shifted and her hair brushed against him. Puck looked over in time to see her raise the bottle to her lips. His eyebrows rose and so did his dick as he watched her throat work around the swallow and he vaguely remembered her innocently saying _no gag reflex _awhile back. _Subject change._

_"_Bad day, babe?"

She blew a raspberry, something Puck hadn't seen anyone do since he'd been about seven, and sunk low on the sofa, bottle balanced on her thigh, right hand gripped around the body of it. Her left fell over her eyes in a perfectly executed Rachel Berry Dramatic Manuver.

"Where do I even _begin?" _she huffed, letting her left hand fall; it landed on Puck's jean covered knee. "I woke up late and was forced to cut my morning routine in half which is the reason my allotted time at the studio was so dismal, I can _assure _you. I had to rush home afterwards in order to showerp before going to meet Kurt and Mercedes (and have you noticed anything out of the ordinary concerning her and a certain blonde, large lipped member of our very own glee club because I _certainly _have.) only to find that our hot water heater is in need of repair so I had to force myself through a freezing cold shower just to make myself presentable."

Jesus on a pogo stick, how did she not pass out? And she still wasn't finished.

"On top of all of this, since I would not have time to return home for lunch between my bonding time with Kurt and Mercedes and my day to volunteer at the JCC daycare (your day is next Wednesday, please don't forget.) I decided to go to that new sandwich shop in the mall-"

"Sammy Time?"

"Yes. But instead of giving me deli tofurkey and baby spinach on whole wheat they gave me _real _turkey with baby spinach on whole wheat! And the worst part is I didn't realize until after I'd taken a bite! It was terrible, Noah!"

Alright, now, that did kind of piss him off. Puck knew how Rachel felt about eating the cute little animals and- holy shit. He was growing a vagina.

"And just as I was about to cap my day off by watering daddy's new sand cherry trees, Finn came by."

Everything inside of him froze. Or that's how it felt, at least. Past patterns played out quickly in Puck's head; Puck, Quinn, Finn; Puck, Rachel, Finn; Puck, _Santana, _Finn. Over and over and over, and Puck was gonna be too late again.

See, he and Rachel were kind of like... two sides of the same coin. There were the obvious similarities of course; they were both hot, Jewish and had extraordinarily nasty tempers. They also were religiously fucked over and had a horrible habit of crawling back for more. Finn and Rachel were like an unholy mash-up that she kept putting on repeat and Puck had a feeling he was about to hear a very familiar speech.

"-and then I sprayed him with the garden hose until he ran away!"

Puck's head snapped up. Oh yeah. There were things going on that he may actually want to pay attention to.

"Wait- what?"

Rachel sighed heavily, as if she were just _so _used to dealing with him, and he supposed that she was. She moved her hand from his knee and swiped the flat of her palm once down his 'hawk, pushing his hair forward.

"You spend so much time lost in your head, Noah."

"I have no idea what that means."

She just smiled, kissed his cheek, and took another drink.

Puck could feel his skin tingling where her lips had touched. He took it as a sign of personal growth that he didn't immediately find something to set on fire after thinking that.

"Where'd you get the wine?" he asked, choking down the word vomit of un-badassness he could feel building up in the back of his throat. He'd seen that her dads liquor cabinet was still locked when he used the corkscrew.

"That's why I was at 7-Eleven earlier," she explained before taking another generous gulp. The bottle was about half empty.

"_How _did you get the wine?"

Rachel shoved the bottle into his hands, blush-pink liquid sloshing against the sides and pushed off the sofa. On the bar was a small wallet, purple with gold sparkle things, and she snatched it before switching back. He pushed the little clasp on top and the wallet fell open.

"Babe, where the hell did you get a fake I.D.?"

"A rather seedy source, I can assure you."

"Okay. Maybe I should have started with this but... _why _do you have a fake I.D.?"

The look she gave him was that well-worn one again and while Puck should have found it annoying, he didn't.

"So I could vote, of course."

Puck's snort earned him an elbow to the ribs.

"Were you serious about breaking into the liquor cabinet? I've had a crappy week and I gotta catch up with you, babe."

Rachel gestured with her bottle. "Be my guest."

They both got wasted. She finished the wine and half of another bottle that'd been locked up behind the bar and Puck liberated Hiriam's rum stash.

Rachel did make him sing with her, and their drunken rendition of "I Got You, Babe" made Rachel laugh so hard that when Puck finally thought _fuck it _and moved in to kiss her, she threw up on his shirt. He spent the next half-hour holding her hair back as she blew chunks and ended up spending the night on the floor with her wrapped around him, fast asleep.

Typical.

**...**

**Authors Note: So this fic is more like something fun to write so I don't set myself on fire. Maybe someday I'll write a more serious Puckleberry. Though for some reason I have a burning desire to write one called "Only the Good Die Young: Part Jew". Huh. **

**Drop me a line. **


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